


did i have to make the ending sad? i did not. did i do it anyway? find out

by taylor_tut



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Movie Night, Queerplatonic Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Team Bonding, Team Fluff, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A request from my tumblr for season one team bonding. Movie night at Sasha's!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	did i have to make the ending sad? i did not. did i do it anyway? find out

Jon uncrosses and then recrosses his legs with the opposite one on top, uncomfortable with his feet politely on the floor but not yet feeling confident enough to curl up on Sasha’s couch. Tim, on the other hand, looks as cozy as can be, half sprawled over the other two couch cushions. Even Martin, who for someone as roomy as he is seems to have a hard time occupying any space at all, doesn’t look as stiff as Jon feels, leaned back in the recliner with his legs on the footrest. 

When Sasha reenters the room with two bowls of popcorn, one large for the couch to share and one smaller for Martin, who can’t reach, she stops in the doorway and laughs. 

“Jon, relax a little, will you? You look like you’re here for a job interview.” 

Jon frowns, shifts marginally, but only manages to look more like a cartoon character who’s just been told to act natural, which makes Tim laugh. 

“Nope,” he says. He adjusts his own posture so his feet are propped up on Sasha’s coffee table, then sweeps Jon’s legs out from under him and deposits them in his own lap, scooting him into a near-recumbent position. He ignores the yelp it elicits. “There. Now, that’s a movie night posture.” Sasha nods, seemingly satisfied, then lifts Jon’s legs like a rope gate to sit on the couch between the two of them before setting them across her own lap. As if she’s able to read his mind, she sets the popcorn over his shins so he’s locked into this position. 

“Okay,” she says, “is everyone warm and comfy?” Martin and Tim agree like it’s rehearsed. “Have your drinks and snacks?” Another enthusiastic “yes,” and she turns to Jon, singling him out but not othering him. There’s warmth in her eyes. There always had been. 

“Comfortable, Jon?” she asks. “I mean physically. I know that socially, you’d like to set yourself on fire, but I’m hoping that will pass.” 

He almost laughs but restrains himself. 

He wishes later he’d just laughed, just so she could have known he’d found it funny, found her charming, loved her. 

“Y-yes,” he manages. “The. Your blanket is soft.” 

“I knitted it!” Tim chimes in, and Sasha cackles, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

“You fucking did not.” 

“I might have! You don’t know what I did before I started at the Institute.” 

“Being my Great Aunt Petunia was not on your resume,” she giggles, which turns into a silent, hard, wheezing laughter when he pulls the blanket over his shoulders like a shawl and begins to babble in an awful impression of an old woman. 

“So, so deeply disturbing,” she finally manages, wiping tears from her eyes. Martin looks to Jon and shrugs, chuckling despite looking just as confused as Jon feels, though a bit more acclimated to it. 

“Are they always like this?” Jon asks. It’s mostly to Martin, but it makes Sasha and Tim’s giggling fit rise into hysterics. 

“They’re on their best behavior,” Martin claims. 

“Of course we are,” Tim adds. “Always!” 

“Right. Are we going to watch a movie, or are you two going to perform a romantic comedy instead?” 

“I don’t think Jon’s old enough to get into a movie starring me and Sash,” Tim says, and Sasha chokes on her sparkling water. 

“Okay, that’s my cue,” she says; “the movie’s starting!” 

She presses play on her remote: Jon had noticed she has a lot of DVDs. Once, she’d mentioned that she doesn’t have Netflix: that she prefers to watch the few movies she owns over and over until she’s got them memorized. Something about comfort in the familiar; everything about her makes everything that will happen to her so unfair. 

“This is one of my favorite movies,” she announces, “so if you haven’t seen it before, you’re in for a treat.” 

Tim rolls his eyes. “Everyone’s seen Stardust, Sash.” 

Jon raises his hand a little. “I haven’t.” 

Tim rolls his eyes harder. “That only proves my point!” 

“Hush!” Martin scolds. As the movie starts, Jon feels his forced-relaxed posture become more natural. He allows himself to actually release the weight of his legs, and Sasha and Tim don’t say a word. Tim rubs casual circles into his ankle with his thumb as he watches the film, his other hand almost constantly in the popcorn bowl, save for the times that Sasha moves it closer to Jon to grab handfuls. 

“Would you mind turning that off?” Jon asks, startling Georgie. She smiles. 

“I didn’t think you were even paying attention.” 

“I’m not--I wasn’t. I’m reading.” 

“Of course you are.” 

“I am!” 

“Got it. Well, if there’s anything you’d like to watch, we can probably find it. You know, when you’re done ‘reading.’”

“I don’t care what we--what you watch. I just don’t like that movie.” 

She blinks. “Alright,” she finally says, unable to hide the slight dismay in her voice. “I guess it’s not a movie I’d expect you to like. Too much fantasy, too many kindly pirates, too much romance. I’ll see if I can find some kind of documentary about the arctic for you. That seems more your speed, right?”

Jon shrugs, turning back to his book. “No preference,” he says again, not irritably, simply exhausted. “Just. Not Stardust.” 

So Georgie turns it off. 


End file.
